The Crown of Ages 1: Loss of the Crown
by exclamation
Summary: Thousands of years ago, on Eltar, Zordon hands over his power coin to Prince Darvir. But the younger Prince Tohmil strives to prove himself as worthy. When there is evidence of a new enemy, Mystic Mother suggests the Crown of Ages is brought out of hiding
1. Chapter 1

Prince Tohmil was in the training room, practicing his sword technique.   
Usually, this was a matter of calm concentration. Today, he hacked at the  
empty air around him as though a thousand hateful enemies stood in the way  
of each slice of his blade. His sweat-soaked tunic suggested that he'd been  
at this for some time. His expression of fierce determination suggested  
that he would remain here a while yet.

"Jealousy does not become you, young prince," said a voice from the  
doorway.

Tohmil ceased his frantic motion and gave a brief nod of respect to his   
teacher before he responded with something like a snarl, "Who says I'm  
jealous?"

He went to the side of the room to retrieve his water bottle while his  
teacher entered. A tall dark-haired man, dressed in blue robes, Zordon was  
a little over a decade older than Tohmil, but his manner always suggested  
the age difference was much greater. The man was a trusted advisor to the   
queen, Tohmil's mother, and was respected by all the court for his  
knowledge. Tohmil had another reason to respect him though: he knew Zordon  
to be a Ranger.

"Your brother is two years older than you," said Zordon, "You have plenty  
of time left to prove yourself."

"But I'm a better fighter than he is!"

"You think being a fighter is all that's needed to be a Power Rangers?"  
Zordon gave a slight laugh, "You could probably best me in a duel from the   
age of ten. But I doubt you'd have made a better Ranger than me if you'd  
been given a coin at that time."

Tohmil thought back on what he'd been like at the age of ten and gave a   
little smile. "Maybe not. But I'm not trying to be better than you."

"Just better than Darvir?"

Tohmil stared at the floor. He hated it that everyone assumed it was just   
sibling rivalry. He was a better fighter than Darvir and had been for  
years. He trained so hard and yet Darvir only practiced when he was told  
to. Darvir never took anything seriously. He got everything because he was  
the oldest and the crown prince. Tohmil worked so hard for everything he'd  
ever achieved, he outshone his brother in so many areas because of his  
struggles and yet he still seemed to be standing in Darvir's shadow.

And now Darvir was to become a Ranger as well.

"It's not fair." 

Zordon laughed again. "Life rarely is. If it were, the Rangers probably  
wouldn't be needed."

"Why does he get to be a Ranger and not me? He gets everything else?"

"Because he is eldest. It's long been a tradition that the heir to the throne must spend some time as a Ranger. If he puts his life to the task of serving his people, it will shape him into a better leader."

"Seems a bit risky to make the future ruler fight dangerous battles."

"Perhaps, perhaps not. It's been over forty years since a Ranger was killed in the line of duty. Besides, this tradition has turned many a spoiled brat into a young adult of noble character. Give your brother a chance to do the same." Zordon gave Tohmil another little smile, "Besides, blue isn't really your colour."

He turned and walked towards the door, leaving Tohmil staring after him, hope and excitement rapidly replacing the jealousy.

"Then what is?" he asked, "Green?"

There was little difference between the five main Ranger colours. Tohmil wouldn't have cared between getting blue and one of the other four. But green was different. If Zordon meant he was destined for another colour, there was always a chance they intended to make him Ranger leader one day.

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Darvir was so excited he'd been unable to eat his breakfast. He was pacing around his bedroom waiting for the summons and wondering quite how it would come. This was a childhood fantasy come true!

And yet at the same time he was nervous he wasn't sure he'd be able to speak to accept the honour. He was terrified he'd mess up the words or drop the power coin when he tried to morph. He didn't know how to be a Ranger! Sure, he knew how to fight, but he was nowhere near as good as so many other people.

A treacherous thought told him that he wasn't even as good as his little brother.

But he'd been chosen. He was going to be a Ranger. He half wanted to jump up and punch the air in victory. Somehow such childish glee didn't seem like the best way to celebrate such a great responsibility. Yet he couldn't quite squash the desire to yell out and whoop with joy. He managed to restrain himself, but only because he thought of what Tohmil would say if he came in here and saw him celebrating in such a manner. It was obvious that Tohmil didn't think the right brother had been picked.

There was no more time for worrying. His bedroom dissolved in blue light and Darvir found himself standing in a dark chamber, the edges of the room fading away into distant blackness. Lights in the ceiling sent down beams of colour and in each a figure was standing in the armour of the Rangers. They stood in a circle around him, motionless and silent, as though they were passing judgement on him.

Darvir had to fight to keep from trembling, terrified they'd decide he wasn't good enough. How Tohmil would gloat if that happened!

Then the Green Ranger began to speak.

"You have been selected as a warrior of the people. You have been chosen to take up the duties of a Ranger and to fight any who threaten the safety of this world. Do you accept?"

"I accept," Darvir managed. His mouth was feeling so dry he was amazed the words came out.

"Do you swear to use your powers only for the good of others and never for personal gain?"

"I swear."

"Do you swear to never escalate a battle unless forced, to always seek for a peaceful solution?"

"I swear."

"Do you swear to keep your identity as a Ranger secret to the best of your ability?"

"I swear."

"Then take your coin and become one of us."

The blue Ranger stepped forward out of his cone of light. He reached for his belt and touched the morpher that was fixed there. The armour vanished, leaving the familiar face of Zordon looking down him. Zordon held out the morpher and Darvir took it from him, still hardly able to believe this was really happening.

"Welcome," said Zordon, "Power Ranger."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Tohmil and Darvir were sparring in the training room. Even Tohmil would admit that Darvir had been taking his practice a good deal more seriously since becoming a Ranger. Tohmil would almost go so far as to say that his brother's company had become moderately tolerable since he was given the responsibility.

"Too slow," Darvir taunted in a sing-song voice as he dodged a strike. Only moderately tolerable.

Tohmil managed to get his revenge for the jibe and quickly had Darvir pinned on the mats. Even with Darvir working at his fighting technique, Tohmil could still beat him almost every time. Yet there was no sign of anyone planning on giving him a power coin any time soon. It still angered him that Darvir yet again got something due to the luck of being two years older. No matter how hard he worked at everything else, Tohmil would never be able to close up the age gap. He would always be the young prince while Darvir was the noble heir.

Darvir picked himself up off the mat, rubbing his leg. "How about we end training for today?"

"Giving up already?" Tohmil teased. He was actually pretty tired himself, but there was no way he was going to admit that.

"I've barely started that history paper Zordon asked us for," Darvir answered.

"There's still two days." Tohmil's paper was sitting on his desk with only about half a page written.

"I have plans tomorrow evening."

"Plans? Girl type plans or monster type plans?"

"A girl," Darvir answered, deliberately looking away from Tohmil as he reached for his water and towel. "The monsters tend to turn up without me planning for them."

It was strange to hear him acknowledge fighting monsters. Despite both of them knowing full well that he was a Ranger, he went well out of his way to avoid mentioning the fact. Tohmil wasn't quite sure if it was because he didn't want to look like he was bragging, or because of the oath of secrecy. Despite his brother's many faults, he'd keep his promises. In the past three months since he'd become a Ranger, Darvir wouldn't even talk about it when Tohmil asked directly.

They left the training room, stepping outside into the brilliant sunlight as they began the short walk across the gardens to the main palace. The gardens were open to the public as a park, always well tended and with bright, exotic flowers in bloom. The brothers walked along grassy paths between perfectly pruned bushes, the warm sun pleasant on stiff muscles.

They rounded a corner and stepped onto a wide lawn. A little distance away, sitting with her friends and giggling over something, was Mirria. She was perched on the grass, the folds of her pink dress draped elegantly around her as though they'd been placed by the most exacting of sculptures. She always dressed like she was going to a ball and today was no exception. Her golden brown hair was twisted up on the back of her head and her neck sparkled with delicate jewels. Her smile was more brilliant than the sun as she laughed at something one of the others had said.

"You're staring," Darvir muttered in his ear.

Tohmil looked away, blushing slightly and hating himself for the involuntary reaction.

"You should go talk to her," Darvir said.

"No way!" Tohmil continued the walk back to the palace at an increased rate.

"You obviously like her. So either you spend forever just staring at her or you go say hello."

"I don't know. Just because she's pretty."

Darvir very unsubtly coughed the word "stunning."

". doesn't mean I'll actually like her. She always seems a bit, well, shallow."

"How do you mean?"

"Whenever I see her, she's with those giggly friends of hers talking about clothes or shopping."

"Or boys. Don't forget boys."

Tohmil had a horrible suspicion he was blushing again.

"My point is, she doesn't seem to care about anything more important."

"Have you asked her?"

"Well. no."

"Last year, she won a dance competition and gave all the prize money to the children's home for them to build a new play centre."

"Really?"

"And she volunteers at the animal hospital."

"How do you know all this?"

"She told me." Darvir grinned at his little brother. "Look, she's a nice, caring girl and anyone with eyes can tell you like the look of her. So go talk to her. You're never going to know if you like her if you never actually speak to her."

Tohmil was about willing to concede his brother probably had a valid point, when a thought occurred to him. "When did you start chatting to Mirria?"

"I've seen her around," Darvir answered vaguely.

"But you've never even mentioned her and you know more about her than I do. How?"

"I don't tell you about every idle conversation I have. What's the big deal?" He was getting seriously defensive now. He was usually happy to talk about things; he only usually got this secretive about the Rangers.

No way!

Tohmil tried to push that thought out of his mind the moment it arrived. There was no chance that Mirria could be a Ranger. She did wear a lot of pink, but it was a nice colour on her and didn't prove anything. She was a silly, giggly girl! If they gave her a power coin but still hadn't given one to him, then there was something seriously wrong with the world.

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The afternoon was spent in private tutoring. They went to school with others their age, albeit, all at the richer end of the class structure. But then they got private lessons from Zordon about the history, laws and noble traditions of Eltar. These lessons were supposed to teach Darvir how to rule wisely for when the day came for him to be king. Tohmil wasn't quite sure why he had to sit through them. It wasn't that Zordon was a bad teacher, it was just that there were a million other places he'd rather be  
and several billions things he'd rather be doing.

It wasn't like he was ever going to be king.

He just didn't see why he had to sit here in a classroom listening to Zordon explain about how some ancient ruler had passed a law allowing poor families to hunt certain animals in the royal forests. Sure, it had probably been a wonderful move at the time, especially as far as the starving peasants were concerned, but nowadays nobody starved. Even the very poor had enough to eat and could get help finding decent employed. It didn't really seem relevant.

"I trust you're paying attention, young prince," said Zordon. Tohmil sat up straight and stared at the teacher. Darvir was sniggering slightly.

"Um, yes."

"Good. Then you won't mind telling me how the hunting laws affecting the growth of the small town industries in the following century?"

Tohmil briefly considered trying to bluff his way out of it, but Zordon wasn't the sort to fall for that trick and Darvir was too busy enjoying his brother's embarrassment to be of any help.

"I didn't say I was paying attention to you."

"Then I hope you will find the subject more enjoyable when you are writing a detailed paper on it, due tomorrow."

"Why?" the word left his mouth without him even thinking about it. Zordon blinked in surprise and Darvir managed to stop laughing, clearly realising there was something more dramatic due.

Well, he couldn't take back the one word that had slipped out, so he may as well follow it up. "What's the point of me learning any of this? It's not like I'm ever going to rule the planet or need to know why laws are made. Why do I have to be here?"

The question he didn't ask was what was the point of his being anywhere. His brother had a clearly defined purpose. From the moment he was born, Darvir was destined to be king. Tohmil had no indication of what his future should be about. If he vanished today, the country would still have its crown prince and it wouldn't make the slightest bit of difference to the world. He was the second son and apparently not worthy of being a Ranger. So what was he supposed to be and do?

"The reason you have to be here, Prince Tohmil," said Zordon, "is simply that if you wished to stop taking lessons with me, you would have to go to the queen and give her a very good reason why."

That just wasn't fair. He asked a perfectly reasonable question and Zordon had to go and threaten him with his mother.

Tohmil stared at the book in front of him and tried to concentrate. 


	3. Chapter 3

It's true. Goldar's wings really shouldn't work.

**Chapter Three**

Tohmil stood at the parapets of the West Tower and looked out across the city of Elarthy, the capital of Eltar. He took in the sight of old stone buildings and the bright gardens that surrounded them. He looked at the ancient walls, relics of a less peaceful time, that stretched away on either side towards the North and South Towers. He saw the palace, a construction of white stone that gleamed in the centre of the city. Moving around the tower, he looked out across the meadows, morning mist still hovering over the grass, golden in the low sunlight. He looked beyond the mists to the dark woodland which shielded the bulk of the power plant from view. He continued his slow patrol around the top of the tower and saw the great planes spreading out westwards. There was a bright flash on the distant horizon as, for an instant, something reflected the sun. He squinted and could just about make out the shape of a spaceship rising. He walked on, passed the slightly crumbling top of the wall and he was back on the city side again.

Everything was still and peaceful. A few birds sang in the distance, but the sound seemed to be a mere emphasis for the silence. He could make out some movement in the city's streets, but most people were probably still in bed. Tohmil leaned on the parapet and stared down on the roofs of homes and businesses, the people inside them living their quiet, peaceful lives. They were happy and contented because they were under the constant protection of mighty guardians.

Tohmil loved this city. He loved this planet and its people. He wanted his chance to do something to help them. It was the excitement or the glory he craved, though he admitted to himself that he would enjoy those. What he really wanted was to do something good with his life, rather than just tagging along as the little brother of a great prince.

Not that Darvir seemed all that great to him.

"It's a beautiful view this time of day, isn't it?"

Tohmil was so startled by the voice that spun round quickly enough to nearly topple over of the parapet. His embarrassment at being surprised was made worse when he realised it was Mirria standing there. She was wearing a pretty dress of pink and white, not quite as elegant as her usual choices of clothing, but the simplicity seemed to just make more obvious the way the sun caught her features and lit her hair to gold.

"Um," said Tohmil, temporarily losing the ability to speak. He tried to think of something to say, remembering what Darvir had told him:

"No matter how embarrassed you are talking to her, just remember how much more embarrassing it would be if I had to tell her you liked her."

"Yes," he managed, "It's very nice." Pathetic! Hardly going to win her over with that sort of poetry.

"I come up here quite often if I can't sleep." She walked to stand beside him. "It's like the whole city's caught in a dream."

Why couldn't he have thought of something like that? That was much more romantic. He tried to think of some response that was as deep then something caught his eye and what he actually said was: "Too bad when the dream becomes a nightmare."

He grabbed Mirria and pulled her to the floor as something that was definitely not a bird flew overhead. The something circled back and came to land on the tower in front of them. Both Tohmil and Mirria were on their feet quickly. Tohmil stood in fighting stance, taking in this strange creature. It was tall, dark and ugly, with great black wings stretching out behind it and gold armour covering its body.

"First chance you get," said Mirria quietly, "run!"

"I can't leave you with that thing."

"Trust me, I know what I'm doing." She gave him a brief smile and Tohmil saw the confidence that gave her such poise. It didn't come from knowledge of her own beauty as he'd always suspected, instead it came from something deep inside her granting her powers beyond the ordinary. He knew in that instant that he'd been right to guess she might be a Ranger.

But still he didn't feel he could leave her here to fight alone. He might not have a power coin, but he was an excellent fighter. If he just ran away and left a girl with a monster, he'd never forgive himself. The fact that she was a Ranger wouldn't make the act any less cowardly.

"Who are you?" Mirria demanded, "What do you want here?"

"I come to prepare the way for my empress."

"Who?"

"You will meet her soon. If you live long enough." The gold creature charged at them but each dodged quickly, ending up on opposite sides of the tower. The creature looked at each of them, then leapt at Mirria in attack. Tohmil wondered briefly if the thing could sense somehow that she was Ranger. He decided to worry about that later though, and jumped, aiming a kick on the creature's back, right between the wings. Mirria dropped low and spun a well-timed kick at the things legs. The joint attack sent it tumbling over the edge of the tower.

"I told you to run," Mirria said. Tohmil's hormones were once again controlling his brain and all he could think of was how pretty she looked when she was annoyed.

"You can't fight that thing alone."

The creature was rising up above the edge of the tower, its wings flapping in great, heavy motions. Tohmil was sure that wings like that couldn't possibly allow the thing to fly. His studies of anatomy didn't extend to monsters, but it just didn't look like it should work. Yet somehow it did, and the creature was laughing at their attempts to stop it. Tohmil looked at the thing and judged how far away from the tower it was.

He knew the plan was stupid. If he leapt at the creature and missed, he'd end up falling to his death. Even if he managed to reach the creature, he couldn't be certain that the monster wouldn't just throw him off, which would also result in him falling to his death. Even he managed to somehow hold on, he couldn't be certain that his weight wouldn't be too much and they'd both end up falling to their deaths. Or, there was always the possibility that the creature was amazingly strong and would just snap him in two.

He'd just finished deciding how stupid it was when the thing swooped over the tower again. It probably expected him to duck. Instead, Tohmil jumped and managed to get a grip of the fur behind the thing's head, the other hand grasping for a purchase on the wings. The creature's flight was erratic with the struggling weight of a teenaged boy clinging to him and the jerking movements made it hard for Tohmil to hold on. He clung desperately for a few seconds before the his hand came away from the creature's neck, the fur he'd been clinging to still in his closed fist, but no longer attached to skin.

He had a fraction of a second to think about just how stupidly pointless his death would be when a bright light wrapped around him.

He hit the ground with a thump, but it was nowhere near as painful as he'd been expecting. Nor was it the same ground he'd bee expecting. He thought of the white light and wondered if maybe he'd died, but he didn't think his body would hurt quite so much in the afterlife.

He sat up stiffly, certain his back would be one giant bruise soon. He looked around at the dark room he was suddenly in. Coloured light shone down from the ceiling making cones of visibility, but the rest of the room was dark. He could barely make out the distant walls in the darkness, lined with indistinct shadows of what might be machinery.

"That was a very foolish thing to do, young prince," said a familiar voice.

Tohmil peered into the darkness and saw a figure approaching him. "Zordon?"

"You should not confuse stupidity with bravery." Now the man was closer, he was definitely recognisable as Zordon. He extended a hand to help Tohmil up, his face fixed in the serious expression that the prince was more used to facing when he hadn't quite finished an assignment on time.

"What is this place?" Tohmil asked, not even trying to deny that he'd been an idiot.

"The Command Centre of the Power Rangers," Zordon answered, "I teleported you here when I saw you fall."

"But I thought you weren't a Ranger anymore."

"I gave my power coin to Darvir, true, but that doesn't stop me helping the team."

There was a flash of blue light and the Blue Ranger appeared in the corresponding cone of light. He instantly turned towards Tohmil, removing his helmet as he did so. The other Rangers were teleporting in as well, but Tohmil was somewhat preoccupied with the sight of the furious Blue Ranger bearing down on him.

"You are so stupid!" Darvir almost yelled, "Why are you so obsessed with trying to be a hero? You should have run! You were told to run! Instead you had to go and pull some crazy stunt!" Darvir seemed to run out of words to express his anger. He made a sudden movement towards Tohmil that, for an instant, gave the younger brother the impression he was about to get hit. Instead, Darvir pulled him into a crushing embrace.

"I thought you were going to die," said Darvir after some moments, the rage in his voice replaced by something quite different.

"I'm sorry," Tohmil said, and he meant it. He would have returned the embrace but his arms were pinned to his sides by Darvir's.

"You should be," said a stern voice. Darvir let Tohmil go and he turned to the Green Ranger. His helmet was still on, so Tohmil was left to imagine the anger on the man's face. "The Power Rangers exist so that those without power never have to face monsters."

"I just wanted to help."

"Well in the future you can help by staying out of the way."

His best chance to prove his worth as a fighter and all he'd succeeded in doing was proving himself to be a reckless fool. They were never going to give him a power coin now.

Green Ranger turned away from Tohmil as if dismissing him from importance now he'd been rebuked. The team leader turned to Zordon. "We need to find out where that creature came from. It got away from us, but I want you to see if you can track it. If it was sent by someone, we need to know who."

"Those wings weren't right," Tohmil muttered. He'd been thinking it over and hadn't realised he'd spoken aloud until he noticed everyone was looking at him. They were staring, waiting for some explanation for why he'd interrupted their plans. "The wings were the wrong shape and the wrong position to be able to lift anything, particularly a creature of that size and weight."

"He's got a point," said Zordon, "Whatever gives that creature the ability to fly, it's not natural or even engineered. It's got to be magic."

"Magic?" Green Ranger sounded shocked, "But we haven't had to face a magical enemy in centuries!" He and Zordon began a rapid discussion of who best to consult in this matter and whether or not they should ask the Mystic Mother for advice.

Tohmil felt a hand on his arm and Pink Ranger led him a little off to one side. She removed her helmet and Mirria smiled up at him. Somehow, despite it having just been trapped inside a helmet, her hair was as perfectly neat as always.

"It may have been stupid," she said, "but it was also pretty brave."

Tohmil smiled slightly, his mouth going slightly dry. Now or never. They'd just faced down a monster together and she thought he was brave. He was probably never going to get a better chance than this.

"Do you want to go to dinner with me tomorrow?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

"I don't usually do this," said Mirria. She'd outdone herself in appearance, dressed in pale pink silk and with an artificial rose pinned in her hair. Tohmil could hardly believe he was sitting here with a girl he'd been staring at across the classroom for forever.

"You must get asked all the time," said Tohmil. They were in a quiet restaurant near the centre of the city. The place was split into little booths, each with their own privacy shield so that no one at the other tables could overhear what was said.

"I get asked," Mirria responded, "I just say no."

"Why?"

"Because it's really hard to have to make up excuses for why I have to leave in the middle. So many guys assume I was bored or didn't like them because I had to go and fight a monster half-way through the evening. I got sick of things being ruined that I just stopped going."

"But that flying gold thing was the first attack in months."

"Here, maybe. We've got a whole world to protect, remember? Over the past few months, the attacks have been getting more frequent and they've been occurring in more populated areas. Being a Ranger isn't all excitement and adventure. It's a lot of work, and a lot of sacrifice."

"How do you mean?"

"I lost a dance competition because I was too busy fighting monsters to practice. I can't start a steady relationship with anyone. My teachers send messages to my parents if I leave in the middle of school and I can't give them a good explanation for where I've been. And it hurts. The armour may give a lot of protection, but there's not a day when I don't have some part of me that's bruised or aching."

Tohmil listened in silence. He prodded his dinner, not quite certain how to respond. He'd never thought about it like that. He'd been so busy being jealous of Darvir that it hadn't even occurred to him that there might be difficulties involved for the older brother.

"I don't understand why you can't tell people."

"The oath," answered Mirria without even thinking about it.

"I mean, why is that one of the oaths? Wouldn't it make it so much easier for you to do your job if you could tell people what you were doing?"

"Maybe. But that oath's been around since the beginning of the Rangers. I think it's to stop people joining the team because they want to look good or they want people to think they're a hero. This way, they can't be a Ranger for the glory, they have to actually want to do some good."

"But I do want to do good."

"Don't rush things," Mirria said, "Enjoy your freedom while you still have it. If you're destined to be a Ranger, you'll be one when the time is right. But until then, be glad of free time and friends that you don't have to hide things from."

Tohmil looked at her and knew she was right. It was more than the words, there was something in how she said them. A quiet air of confidence that put any doubts out of his mind. If it was meant to happen, it would happen.

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Darvir was waiting in the Command Centre with the others. Mirria was late. Ardrin had decided not to contact her. A few minutes weren't going to make a huge difference.

The lights had been turned up, revealing the massive amounts of equipment that Darvir still didn't know enough about. He listened attentively when Zordon explained, but most of the time he just felt that he should have waited to be a Ranger. The blue coin supposedly chose a wise Ranger, or a wise Ranger was chosen for it by some higher power. No one was quite certain which way round it was. Either way, the Blue Ranger usually was extremely skilled technologically.

Darvir didn't feel particularly well suited to his role. He wondered if what Tohmil had said was true and that the coin was only his because he was heir to the throne. Would they have given him any coin just to keep the tradition, whether he was worthy of it or not?

He did his best. He fought as well as he could and he thought he proved himself well in battle, but he still didn't seem to fit into the position that blue usually took. Most of the responsibilities were still taken by Zordon, who it seemed had been a Ranger too long to easily walk away.

At last, Mirria arrived in a flash of pink.

"Sorry," she said to Ardrin, "I didn't notice the time."

"Well, we're all here now," Ardrin said, "Let's go."

He nodded to Zordon who stood by the main controls for the teleporter and the Command Centre dissolve away, leaving the six standing in a large anti-chamber. Darvir recognised it well enough as the waiting room outside his mother's study. The room was elegantly appointed with antique wooden furniture and panelling, a plush carpet on the floor and images of some of the more significant monarchs.

Darvir kept in place behind Ardrin as the Green Ranger knocked on the study door. Today, he wasn't a prince. Today he was a Ranger, and would stand behind the leader as it should be.

The door opened for them and the six walked through into a room much like the one before, but dominated by a large desk where the queen sat. The furnishings of the room hadn't changed in centuries. It seemed devoid of technology at first glance. A closer inspection revealed that the lights in the chandelier were really electronic and that the carved, wooden board rising from the surface of the desk concealed a computer screen.

The queen sat proudly behind her desk. She looked at the assembled group but didn't even acknowledge Darvir. He supposed that was proper too, but it still irked him that his mother could so easily separate duty and family.

"What report do you make?" the queen asked.

"The monsters that have been attacking Eltar are produced by magic," said Ardrin, "The creature that attacked Prince Tohmil and the Pink Ranger spoke of an empress that he was preparing the way for. These creatures would appear to be merely testing our defences in preparation for an invasion by a magically enabled enemy."

"And your suggestion?"

"That we contact the Mystic Mother and ask for her advice. She may know who could be behind this and how to stop them."

Darvir had never heard much about the Mystic Mother, just whispers and rumours. She was supposed to be a sorceress of such magical strength that she was even capable of granting magic to others. She was said to have been born to an enormous power, though the stories were always vague as to what that power might be. He was as excited at the prospect of meeting such a legend as most people would be by the thought of meeting the Rangers.

"Agreed," said the queen, "I will speak to the Mystic Mother and see what she has to say."

"Your majesty," said Ardrin, "I would like to be here when you speak to her. She may have questions that I can answer and you can't and any instructions for my Rangers are best given directly to me."

The queen nodded, "It is your right, Green Ranger."

Ardrin thanked her and then turned to the others, "Go back to the Command Centre. I will join you soon."

Darvir left with the others, reaching for his morpher to teleport. He wondered what the point of them even being there had been. It seemed that Ardrin could deal with everything himself. As usual.

There were times when Darvir almost wondered why Ardrin called them to fight. The Green Ranger was the strongest in many ways, not just in the fact that his coin held the most power. He led the team well and Darvir didn't resent it, but there were moments when the team squabbled and argued that Darvir thought that the Green Ranger might do a better job if he fought alone.  



	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

"I, um, I had a nice time last night," said Tohmil. He was walking with Mirria through the palace gardens. She'd replaced her usual dresses with more practical trousers and figure-hugging, pink tunic. Her hair was twisted up on the back of her head in a complicated knot, leaving her neck bare. This just made more obvious the sparkling necklace that drew the eye down to her cleavage. Or maybe Tohmil's eyes were just drawn their anyway.

"I had a nice time too," she said.

"I thought, maybe, we could do something tomorrow. If you're not too busy saving the world that is."

Mirria gave a little laugh. "Well, I'll do my best. What did you have in mind?"

"I'm not sure. I thought maybe the dance hall, but you're probably so good that it would make me look even more terrible than I am."

"Don't say that. I'm sure you're a great dancer."

"You won't be saying that when you're nursing your injured toes."

"In that case, clearly I need to work out how to morph just my feet."

They laughed together.

They stopped walking and stood beneath fruit trees that were hung with blossom. The slightest breeze would send white petals fluttering down around them in a delicate snow. Tohmil reached out to brush away a petal that had become caught in her hair. The gesture changed without him really intending it and he cupped the back of her head. Gently, he encouraged her to tilt her head up while he leaned down. Their lips met for the first and last time, beneath the blossom on a warm spring day.

The kiss ended and Tohmil stood there slightly awkwardly, not quite certain what he should say. He wasn't exactly experienced with this sort of thing.

"I wish it hadn't taken me this long to work up the courage to speak to you," Tohmil said with a slight laugh.

"Well, we can't change the past. We'll just have to enjoy the future." She stepped in for another kiss, but stopped when there came the sound a strange beeping.

Mirria muttered something that sounded distinctly like a swearword.

"I've got to go. I'm sorry."

"It's OK," Tohmil replied, guessing this was a Ranger thing.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she said, then she disappeared in a flash of pink.

Tohmil knew he should have been irritated about having his pleasant afternoon interrupted, but he was still too happy about that kiss for any sort of annoyance to stand a chance. He made sure no one was around before doing a little celebration dance, punching the air a few times.

He half-ran back to the palace, bouncing up the front steps with a wide grin on his face. Anyone who saw him could probably guess that he'd just kissed the prettiest girl in school.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Darvir watched his mother looking around at the Command Centre and wondered if she'd been in here since she gave up the yellow power coin, some years before she became queen. It must have been difficult to go from the wild excitement of fighting monsters to serving her planet from behind a desk. Darvir thought he saw a trace of longing on her face as she looked round the old room that had served the Rangers as their base for centuries. Mirria teleported in. Ardrin said nothing about her lateness in front of the queen, but no doubt there'd be lecture about promptness later. Especially since she didn't appear at all sorry. From the smile on her face and the slightly flushed cheeks, Darvir guessed they had his brother to thank for her tardiness.

"We are ready to begin, you majesty," said Ardrin.

"Then do so," said the queen. The Rangers took their places in the circle beneath their coloured lights. The queen stood beside and a little behind Ardrin, enough of the green light shining on her that she seemed to attain a slightly ghostly air. In the shadows at the edge of the room, Zordon pressed the buttons that would open the connection to the Mystic Mother's dimension.

For several seconds, nothing happened. Then a white light began to glow in the centre of the circle. After a moment, the light began to take shape, forming the image of a person. A moment later and the light had faded, leaving a woman, robed in white, standing in the middle of the circle.

"Welcome to Eltar, Mystic Mother," said the queen, stepping past Ardrin and into the circle. She bowed her head slightly in a gesture of respect, but she didn't give a full courtesy. The implication was obvious; she acknowledged Mystic Mother's power and rank, but she made it apparently that she wasn't going to yield to her authority on this world.

"Your majesty," said Mystic Mother, giving no courtesy at all, "I felt I had to come myself. This news of an evil empress is grave indeed."

"Do you know who the monster might have been referring to?"

"No, and that worries me immensely. It would take someone of great power to form an army such as the one which has been attacking Eltar without my sensing it."

"Will you be able to help us? Eltar's Power Rangers are strong and courageous warriors, but I am not certain they have the necessary abilities to face a magical foe. Particularly one as strong as you suggest."

"I believe," said Mystic Mother, "that the weapon you need to fight this enemy may already be in your possession?"

The queen paled slightly. Darvir wondered what they could possibly be referring to. Clearly, whatever it was, the prospect of such a weapon frightened his mother. And she was never frightened by anything.

"It was decided a long time ago that it should be shut away," said the queen, leaving Darvir no clearer as to the subject of their discussion, "If it gets into the wrong hands."

"I am not suggesting you put it in the wrong hands," said Mystic Mother, "Surely you trust your son to protect it."

And then she glanced at Darvir, who stood there bewildered.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later, Darvir sat in his room, his computer displaying passages from various books on the history of Eltar. He was searching for anything that might be the powerful weapon Mystic Mother had mentioned. She and his mother had gone to the queen's study to argue about whether or not it was wise to use whatever this object was. He was rather irritated they didn't include him, since it appeared that he would be the person to use the weapon.

There was a knock on his door and he stood to open it. Mystic Mother stood there. She entered the room when Darvir invited him. He waited impatiently for her to say something.

"The queen has decided," Mystic Mother said at last, "to bring the Crown of Ages from its hiding place. Tomorrow there will be a ceremony to bestow its powers to you."

Darvir had seen a mention of the Crown of Ages in one of the histories, but he'd assumed it was just a piece of jewellery that had been lost over the years. He opened his mouth to ask more about it, to find what its power was, but Mystic Mother hadn't finished speaking.

"After the ceremony," said Mystic Mother, "once the power in the crown is activated, you will give it to me."

"Why?" Darvir asked, "I thought you said that it would be my job to protect it."

Instead of answering, Mystic Mother held out her hand. In it appeared a long staff, topped with a large, circular decoration. Darvir just had time to wonder if this was her wand, when she proved it was. A bright bolt of energy, like lightning, shot from it and hit Darvir full in the chest.

The pain flowed through his body, like electricity charging through every nerve. He fell backwards, feeling only the pain and hearing only a quiet whisper that repeated over and over in his mind, "You will give me the crown." 


	6. Chapter 6

** Chapter Six**

Darvir was being extremely quiet over dinner. He ate almost mechanically, as though he didn't even notice the food. Something really must be weighing on his mind. Tohmil guessed it was whatever had been the cause of Mirria leaving early, which meant it had something to do with the monsters.

Tohmil hoped that Mirria was alright, but he was sure Darvir would have said something if she wasn't. There had been no news of attacks, but whatever was stopping the older prince enjoying his food was clearly important.

The two sat alone in the family dining room. Their mother had announced she was too busy and was taking a tray in her study. The servants had left to enjoy their own meals once the princes had been served. The palace's security system was the best on the planet. So there was no one to overhear.

"Alright, spill," said Tohmil.

Darvir looked up from his plate. A slightly confused expression met Tohmil's gaze.

"What are you planning?"

"I'm not allowed to say."

"I'm not asking you to give away all the Ranger secrets," said Tohmil, "I just want a little hint. Maybe you'll feel better about things if you talk to someone." The last statement was unlikely to encourage revelations, but it was a better attempt than, "Please tell me, I'm nosy."

"Mirria was called away," Tohmil went on, "and you're clearly worried about something. So tell me."

"No," Darvir answered. Even for his brother, that was abrupt, and somewhat rude.

"Please. It's not like I'm going to tell anyone else."

"I have to go now." Then Darvir just stood and walked out of the room, leaving Tohmil even more confused. He didn't think he'd done anything offend his brother. Not lately, anyway. This was so typical of him, going into a sulk for no good reason. He could at least say why he was upset.

Tohmil left the dining room soon after. He was heading back to his own room, but then he spotted Zordon coming from the direction of his mother's study, a pile of papers in his arms. Zordon, at least, didn't look too worried. He gave Tohmil a smile and gestured him over.

"Prince, Tohmil," he said, "I need to speak to you about arrangements for tomorrow."

"What's going on tomorrow?"

"I assumed your brother would have told you."

"No, he seems to be a mood with me for some reason. So, what's happening?"

"Have you heard of the Crown of Ages?"

Tohmil shook his head. Zordon placed a hand on his arm and led him to a bench against the wall of the corridor. They both sat and the teacher began his story.

"That's not surprising," said Zordon, "It's easier to keep something hidden if people don't even know it exists. The crown was created a long time ago. Certainly centuries, possibly even millennia. It has great magical powers. It belonged to the royal family. Some stories say it was a gift from a being in the Mystic Realm, some say that a former king was a sorcerer and he created it. Either way, it has been passed down from ruler to heir since that time."

"So what happened to it?"

"A great many people tried to get it from its rightful owner, by theft or by force. Over the course of several years, there were injuries and deaths resulting from these attempts. One monarch decided that the possible merits of using the crown weren't worth the risk of any more attempts to seize its power. That monarch hid the crown away, leaving its power dormant, declaring that it should only be reactivated in a time of great need."

"So where is the crown now?"

"Still hidden. With each generation, the ruler passes the crown to his or her heir. That person claims ownership of the crown and seals it away again. Only the rightful owner of the crown can take it from its hiding place. At the moment, that owner is you mother. Tomorrow, it will be your brother."

"So Mother will fetch it and give it to Darmir?"

"It's slightly more complicated than that. Because of the reasoning for deactivating its powers, a large number of people have to agree to reactivate it. Members of parliament and certain key figures will have to be present. It will be rather a noticeable affair."

Zordon didn't sound too pleased at the prospect. Clearly he was worried that whoever was behind the attacks might realise what was happening and send more monsters to try and steal the crown.

"It's not strictly necessary for you to be at the ceremony," said Zordon, "but I want you there and I want you armed. If you wear your formal robes, you can also wear a dress sword and no one will suspect anything amiss. The chance of an attack happening is fairly slim and there's no sense worrying people unduly."

"So activating a magical object that was locked away because it was too dangerous isn't going to worry people?"

"On the contrary, it will comfort them that the queen will stop at nothing to defend her planet."

"So I'll have a weapon. What am I to do if a monster does show up?" Tomhil asked.

"I want you to stay close to Ardrin during the ceremony. If anything unexpected happens, take your orders from him."

"Why Ardrin?"

Zordon looked at him for a moment and then laughed. "I thought you'd worked out the identities of the Rangers."

"Only Darvir and Mirria." He'd never claimed otherwise and actually felt rather proud that Zordon might assume that he had. Zordon including him in the battle plan also rekindled hope that he might one day be considered worthy of a power coin of his own.

"Well, Ardrin is the Green Ranger. You will do anything he tells you and you won't hesitate to follow his orders."

Tohmil nodded. He found himself almost hoping that something would go wrong, so that he'd have the chance to show what he was capable of.

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Darvir watched his brother from somewhere behind his eyes. He was hearing the words that came from his own mouth, but they weren't the words he wanted to say. He struggled to call out or to just give some signal that something was wrong, but his body kept calmly eating his meal, responding to Tohmil's questions with blank indifference.

_You have to see this isn't me._ Darvir silently begged. But his brother didn't seem at all suspicious. He just kept pleading like a little kid, trying to get the answers that Darvir so desperately wanted to give him. Inside, he was crying as he fought the spell without success. He saw his little brother, innocent and unknowing, asking him questions like this was any other night. Not a sign that he even suspected anything.

He was just sitting there, defenceless, while Darvir's body was completely controlled by an enemy. Darvir knew that if he was ordered to stab his brother right here, there wouldn't be a thing he could do to stop himself.

_Please, Tohmil, you know me. You know me better than anyone. You have to see that I'm being controlled._ But Tohmil didn't seem to. Darvir hoped desperately that this normality was as much an act as all he did. He hoped that Tohmil was just trying to make him feel he wasn't suspected so that he could go find Zordon or Ardrin and tell them something was wrong. But he didn't believe it.

Struggling inside his own body, Tohmil tried to channel all his anger into making himself move. The fear was so strong that Darvir was having to fight that as well just to keep his thoughts clear. He focussed on his anger, on the rage at the Mystic Mother's betrayal. That fire gave him something, a tiny boost of strength. He battled for a slight movement, each second an entire war inside him mind.

He looked down and the part of him that was controlled saw the first letter of the word "help" scraped out by his knife using gravy on a clean portion of the plate. The knife moved and gravy sloshed across his battleground, the sign of his minor victory obliterated in an instant.

"I have to go now," he said, standing. The controlled part of his mind must be scared that he'd give something away and that the plan would be ruined.

On the walk back to his rooms, Darvir celebrated silently at his tiny victory. If he could fight back, even just this minute amount, he stood a chance. He just needed Tohmil to notice and he and Zordon and the Rangers would be able to break the spell. He just needed Tohmil to have seen the signal on the plate.  
_  
Please, Tohmil, you've got to know this isn't me. Please, Tommy. Please._


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Tohmil should have been checking the hang of his sword to ensure that it would draw smoothly and that the sheath wouldn't get in the way of his legs if he had to fight. Instead, he was staring at his reflection and trying to position the sword in a way that would look impressive, since Mirria was certain to be there. It didn't help that his formal robes didn't fit properly. Again.

He never wore the official regalia of a prince unless he absolutely had to, which meant that each time he wore them, they weren't quite the right size but there was never enough time to adjust them properly. The tailors would no doubt make the necessary adjustments after today, but Tohmil would go so long before he had to wear them again that they'd never be right. He pulled down the hem of the velvet tunic and then tugged at the front of the robes trying to get them to hang right. They were just too tight across his chest; his muscles must have grown since last time.

At last, he told himself to stop being so vain and he left his room, heading for the small chamber behind the Great Hall where his mother and Darvir waited. Darvir was sitting, straight-backed, in a hard chair, staring at nothing. The really wasn't like him. Moping just wasn't his style. Clearly the crown was weighing on his mind even before it was placed on his head.

"Try not to worry," Tohmil said, though he realised the thought of having an immensely powerful, magical weapon placed on his forehead couldn't exactly be easy.

"I'm not worried," said Darvir. At least that was more typical of him; Tohmil tried to say something to help and had his efforts deemed unnecessary.

"I'm sure this won't take too long. We'll figure out who's behind these monsters and then you'll be able to put the crown back in hiding again."

"Yes."

Tohmil gave up. If Darvir was going to be sulking too much to even have a proper conversation, Tohmil didn't see why he should try. He walked over to the queen, who held a cushion on which sat the Crown of Ages. Tohmil looked at it for the first time and was seriously unimpressed. It was a narrow band of plain silver, devoid of any jewels or decorations. It looked, while not exactly worthless, not at all like it deserved this much fuss. He could hardly believe that this thing could be a weapon of any sort.

A door opened and Ardrin stepped through. He was smartly dressed in green velvet, bowing formally to the queen and to Darvir, giving Tohmil a nod of acknowledgement. It occurred to Tohmil that he should have noticed the fact Ardrin always seemed to be wearing green.

"We are almost ready, your majesties," Ardrin said.

"Good."

Ardrin beckoned for Tohmil to follow him out into the hall. The room was impressive both in its size an the amount of money it must have cost to build. Marble was the main building material, with guilt decorations around the tops of the fluted columns and the enormous crystal chandeliers. The only window was a dome of glass in the ceiling, letting down shafts of sunlight onto the gathered crowd. Tohmil saw Mirria standing by the carved double doors that even now had people arriving through, but the only greeting he was able to give was a small wave.

Tohmil followed Ardrin to a discrete flight of steps and then up to a small balcony that was sometimes used as a minstrel's gallery. It afforded a good view of the entire hall but particularly the low dais with the queen's throne. Mystic Mother stood behind the throne. She gave Tohmil a nod of greeting when she saw him watching.

There were only two ways into the Great Hall: the main entrance and the smaller door through to the preparation room where the queen and Darvir waited. Mirria was watching the main entrance and Tohmil could see Zordon standing discretely close to the other door. Presumably, the other Rangers were waiting in the crowd, though there were so many brightly-coloured outfits that he couldn't even guess at who they might be.

"You may be a prince," said Ardrin, "but you will follow my orders in this. We have planned for a possible attack and I don't want you questioning my decisions and jeopardising the situation."

"I understand," said Tohmil. He had to struggle not to answer, "yes, sir." His answer seemed to please Ardrin, because the man gave him a warm smile.

"It's important," Ardrin said, "for a Ranger to understand how to work in a team."

Did he mean? Tohmil almost wanted to let out a cry of joy at the implication of those words. Ardrin was testing those skills required for being a Ranger. He hoped he wasn't grinning like an idiot at the idea that he was being assessed for possible Rangerhood.

A trumpet sounded and the queen emerged, Darvir a step behind her. Tohmil noticed Zordon carefully locking and bolting the door as soon as they were through. The queen walked in a stately manner and took her seat in the throne, the Crown of Ages resting neatly on her lap. Darvir knelt in front of her, looking out across the assembled crowd. His face looked slightly blank, probably he was just trying not to look nervous.

A hush fell across the hall, those gathered waited with awe and anticipation for what was about to happen.

"Lords, ladies," the queen began formally, "members of parliament and families of noble blood, you have been called together because a threat faces this world. A magical threat of a kind that has not been heard of on Eltar for centuries. As such, I have deemed it necessary to restore the Crown of Ages to its rightful place and rightful use. But I alone cannot make such a decision for this world. Do you give your blessing?"

One at a time, those assembled ascended the dais and crossed to the queen. Each gave a bow or curtsey, then placed a hand on the crown in her lap and said, "I give my blessing." Tohmil watched for several long minutes as men and women repeated exactly the same procedure.

"Do they all really need to do this?" he whispered to Ardrin.

"A lot of them. There were some the queen wasn't certain would be required and invited them to be safe. Others would simply be mortally offended if they were left out."

Tohmil stifled a yawn. Of course it was a good thing that no one was trying to attack Darvir or steal the crown, but he had hoped for rather less boredom on such a significant day.

"Don't you have to do this?" Tohmil asked after a few more minutes of watching nobles bless the crown.

"The Rangers had to perform a more significant part of the ceremony. We did that before the others arrived to avoid leaving too much evidence of our identities."

Tohmil went back to watching his brother. At least Darvir was managing not to yawn, though his blank expression implied he was suffering from the same boredom as Tohmil. At last, after what seemed like an eternity, the last of the crowd had stepped down from the dais. The queen stood and began speaking again.

"My son," she said, "my heir, I give to you the Crown of Ages to be used well and wisely in the defence of this planet and its people." Darvir raised his hands above his head and the queen, standing behind him, placed the crown in them. He didn't set the crown in place yet though, the ceremony wasn't quite finished.

"Do you swear," the queen asked, "to use the Crown of Ages only for the good of Eltar?"

Darvir stayed silent for several seconds. Tohmil silently begged his brother to hurry up and say "yes" so they could get this over with. Then Darvir started to shake all over. Tohmil stood at the edge of the balcony staring down at him, wondering what was wrong and if he should do something to help. It looked like he was having a fit or something.

"No!" Darvir yelled, dropping the crown. It dropped from his hands and rolled from the dais, falling to the marble with a resounding clatter. He grasped his head, the crown apparently forgotten. The queen crouched down at his side, touching his shoulders and studying his face, motherly affection for once visible through her regal posture.

Tohmil was almost too startled to react, and it seemed the same was true of those nobles watching.

One person, however, did react. Mystic Mother stepped forward, her simple, white robes changing colour and form with that movement, becoming purple and ugly. The kind benevolence of her expression fell away to reveal a harsh bitterness.

"You fools," she declared. "The Crown of Ages shall be mine and this world and all others will be under my control. Today I claim my heritage as Rita Repulsa, the daughter of Master Vile and I take my place as an Empress of Evil. Putties!"

As she yelled the last word, strange, grey creatures appeared around her. People started screaming and panicking, running for the door. But the not the queen. She stood and delivered a swift kick to the nearest of the grey things, removing all doubt from Tohmil's mind about the fact his mother had once been a Ranger.

Ardrin grabbed Tohmil's arm. "Get the crown!"

"But Darvir." Tohmil began. Darvir was still kneeling at the edge of the dais, staring blankly ahead as though he didn't even notice the fighting.

"I'll get him. You get the crown and get to safety." Then Ardrin leapt over the edge of the balcony to join in the battle. Tohmil looked at the distance and decided not to risk it, instead running down the stairs as fast as he was able. He pushed through the mass of fleeing people to the dais, where one of the grey things had picked up the crown and was staring at it with a gormless expression. Tohmil drew his sword and swung it for the thing's neck. He sliced through in one clean stroke and the creature crumbled like old clay, Tohmil catching the crown before it could fall again.

The rest of the putties were clearly determined to stop him but they were slow and stupid, Tohmil fighting them off without too much difficulty, slicing through their clay forms. From the corner of his eye, he could see someone dragging his mother to safety. He saw his brother still sitting, a blue glow now visible in his eyes. He saw others fighting the clay things, which seemed to be everywhere, no matter how many Tohmil cut down. He was beginning to tire, struggling to keep the masses of putties back as they strove to grab the crown he clutched tightly in his left hand.

There was a shadow overhead. Tohmil glanced up to see something above the domed window, then he turned away, shielding his face as, with a huge crash, a great spray of glass rained down on the hall. When he straightened up again, the creature he had faced on the tower now stood in the centre of the hall, a sword raised.

Mirria ran at the monster dealing a fierce kick that barely phased it. Tohmil tried to fight through the mass of putties to help her, but there were so many of them all around him, grabbing at him and crown. Tohmil was still out of reach when he saw the monster bring round his sword, Mirria unable to get out of the way in time.

Tohmil screamed as he saw Mirria crumple to the ground, her pink gown already soaking through with crimson. Tohmil fought towards the creature, desperate to kill it. The anger and grief burned through him and he wanted to destroy that monster.

But strong arms grabbed him from behind. Tohmil struggled against the firm grip as the room faded away in a flash of green. Then they were in the Command Centre.

Tohmil broke from the grasp and turned, furious to face Green Ranger. "Let me back!" he screamed, "Let me kill that thing!" Tears were pouring down his face. He thought of his brother, sitting unseeing and still. He thought of Mirria, the girl he'd kissed only yesterday, lying motionless on the marble. He wanted so much to deal out some of the pain he felt, to make those responsible suffer as he did.

But Green Ranger said nothing.

There were more flashes of teleportation, but Tohmil was staring at the Green Ranger. His morph shattered and Ardrin stood there for a moment. Then he toppled forward, Tohmil catching him, laying him gently on the ground. Ardrin grabbed at Tohmil's hand, pressing something into it. Then his eyes closed and there were no more movements.

Tohmil stepped backwards, horrified, as Ardrin, the Green Ranger, the strong leader, his friend, lay dead on the floor.

The fire of his rage was being drowned by his grief. Tohmil stood there, shaking and helpless, crying hopelessly and wishing desperately he could have been stronger or faster or better. Wishing that he'd had some way to prevent these deaths.

He looked down at the thing Ardrin had given him and saw a large coin in his palm. For a moment, the surface flared with a green light. 


	8. Chapter 8

** Chapter Eight**

Tohmil sat in a corner of the Command Centre, looking across at where Mirria and Ardrin lay. He'd stopped crying now; there were only so many tears a person could weep. He just sat on the floor, his back to a control panel, seeing the death that lay before him. He felt strangely empty. Numb, as though his mind had just shut down because the pain was too much for it to cope with. He didn't want to think or feel, because either brought agony to his soul. He just wanted this to not be real.

Someone had brought Mirria's body down from the Great Hall and now she lay motionless on a table that had been brought out from somewhere. Only yesterday, he'd been talking to Mirria about going dancing. Only yesterday, he'd been overflowing with happiness at the very thought that she liked him. Only yesterday, his life had still made sense.

No one knew where his brother was, or even what had happened to him. Apparently, he'd magically transported out with Rita and her creatures, but Tohmil couldn't even be certain that the boy sitting on the dais had been Darvir.

He should have known something was wrong. He'd thought there was something odd about his brother's behaviour, but he'd not taken the time to consider it properly. If he'd just cared enough to worry rather than dismissing it as a bad mood, maybe he'd have seen that Darvir wasn't himself. He could have prevented this if he'd stopped thinking about himself long enough to notice a problem with his own brother.

And now Darvir could be the third Ranger victim of the day, and there was nothing he could do about it.

He stared at the crown he still held and he wished it gone. This was the cause of all these problems. Rita had wanted it so badly that she'd stolen his brother and killed two of his friends. She didn't care who got hurt so long as she got hold of it. Tohmil studied it, a plain band of silver. It looked so unimportant. Was this really worth the price that had been paid for it?

He wanted to fling it away and never see it again, but that would mean throwing away Mirria's sacrifice. And Ardrin's.

Zordon walked over to him and crouched down so his face was level with Tohmil's.

"Young prince," he said, "I know this is hard for you, but you have to be strong. You need to stay in control of your feelings if we are to get Prince Darvir back."

"How?" Tohmil asked, surrendering to despair and grief, "How can three Rangers hope to fight someone who can summon monsters out of thin air?"

"Four," said Zordon, "There are four Rangers."

"It didn't look like my brother would be doing much to free himself."

"I wasn't referring to Prince Darvir. The dragonzord coin glowed in your hand. It chose you. You are the Green Ranger now."

"I don't want it," said Tohmil. The coin he held was what he'd wanted for so long he couldn't remember. But now he knew he didn't deserve it, no matter what he may have thought even that morning. He should have been able to get through those putties to help Mirria. He'd been so close, yet he'd been unable to anything more than watch her die. How could he lead a team of Rangers when he didn't have the wits to see that his brother was under a sorceress' spell?

"You've been chosen, Tohmil," said Zordon, "That coin is yours now, whether you want it or not."

"But you were a Ranger for years. Can't you take it?"

"It's not that simple." Zordon placed a hand on Tohmil's shoulder and looked him in the eye, "You are strong and you are brave. I have never doubted you would make a fine Ranger. We are going to get your brother back from Rita and I'm certain you'll want to be a part of that."

"I want to kill that gold thing."

"Don't think about revenge. Getting Prince Darvir back must be our priority. You understand?"

Tohmil nodded. He thought of his brother, the older boy who tried to advise him on how to speak to girls. He thought of the time they'd climbed the city walls together even though they'd been forbidden. He thought of his last birthday, when Darvir had given him a game that they'd played together until their mother ordered them to bed. It was because of him that Rita had been able to take Darvir with her, because he'd not seen the spell. This was his fault and he would make up for it. He would get Darvir home and safe, whatever it took.

He stood and walked across to the other Rangers. There was Alvise, the Yellow Ranger. And Cordin was the Black. And, though he could hardly believe it, Jaraino, his mathematics teacher, was Red. Four of them against all the monsters Rita could create, trying to save someone who might not even want to be rescued. Tohmil tried not to think of this as hopeless, but the word kept entering his mind unbidden.

"Could we contact the real Mystic Mother?" Alvise was asking, "Assuming that Rita didn't kill her."

"That was the real Mystic Mother," said Zordon. "Master Vile, a being of unspeakable evil, is her father."

"Then why did you trust her?" Tohmil asked in disbelief.

"Because having an evil parent does not necessarily make someone evil. Mystic Mother has for centuries been a true servant of goodness. I can't understand how this change came about, but Rita was certainly the name given to her by her father."

"So the one person who could help us fight a magical enemy turns out to be the very person we're trying to stop," muttered Cordin.

"She may have given us some help she didn't intend," said Zordon, "She convinced us to summon the crown."

"But without Darvir to finish the ceremony," said Tohmil, "surely it's still dormant. How can we use it?"

"The crown records the DNA of its current owner. It is able to recognise a child of that owner by the similarities and record that as its new owner when it is transferred. But there is nothing in the DNA to distinguish the first child from the second." Tohmil heard Zordon's words and could see where they were leading. He desperately hoped he was wrong, because he didn't want this responsibility as well. He wasn't sure he could handle being a Ranger, and now Zordon wanted to give him a magical weapon.

"The ceremony was almost completed," Zordon went on, "All that is required is for the queen's son to make the final oath and wear the crown. Then its powers will activate."

"But it doesn't belong to me. It's Darvir's. Will I be able to give it back to him afterwards?"

"I don't know. All I know is that it will be much harder to bring your brother home without its help."

"There's no one else but you, highness," said Jaraino.

Tohmil shut his eyes and breathed deeply for a few moments. He already knew what choice he'd have to make, but everything was happening too fast. It was strange. He'd always been jealous that all the power and opportunities had been given to Darvir without the older prince having to try. Now that everything was being offered to him, he wondered if that had been a curse rather than a blessing. But this could save his brother's life.

"Alright," Tohmil said at last, "What do I do?"

"Hold it above your head," Zordon said. Tohmil did so. "Do you swear to use the Crown of Ages only for the good of your planet and your people?"

"I swear," Tohmil answered.

"Now place the crown on your head."

Tohmil lowered his hands and set the band around his forehead. The moment he did so, he felt the cold metal grow warm. His skin tingled beneath it and he felt something flowing into him. He knew it was the power of the crown becoming a part of him, though he couldn't have said where the knowledge came from. The energy tingled through his veins, strengthening him in mind and spirit. The crown was awake.

He reached up and touched what had been blank metal. Somehow, the process of awakening had altered its appearance. His fingers brushed over the raised symbol of a dragon that now adorned the front of the crown. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

"So, what happens now?" asked Tohmil.

"The crown's power has clearly been activated."

"Yes, but how do I use it?" Tohmil wished that mystic relics came with instruction manuals. He had on his head a weapon powerful enough to cause so much grief, yet it seemed just as useless as ever.

"It may come instinctively," said Zordon.

"Instinctively? You mean, if I go into battle, it's just possible that I'll get the crown to do something useful but we won't know until then?" He tried to keep the annoyance out of his tone. They'd given this to him because it would supposedly help him save his brother. He knew its power was inside him, but he still wasn't sure what possible use it would be to get Darvir back from that sorceress.

Almost in answer to his thoughts, one of the screens at the edge of the room lit up. The group crowded round, Tohmil watching as the image became a clear picture of the Mystic Mother in her evil form. Kneeling in front of her was Darvir, his expression blank and his eyes shining with a blue light. He was still alive. That meant there was still a chance to save him, but all Tohmil could see was the emptiness. Was there anything of his brother left in that figure?

"You have something I want," Mystic Mother said, "and I have something you want. Give me the Crown of Ages and I will set Prince Darvir free. If you don't give me what I want by dawn tomorrow, I will start to cut apart your prince. If you wait, he might come back to you alive, but he won't be intact."

The screen went blank, but Tohmil kept staring at it, seeing Darvir's blank look. He didn't even try to run. He'd fought back in the ceremony; he'd said no. There had to be something of him in there somewhere. His brother couldn't be gone.

"What do we do?" asked Alvise.

"We can't give her the crown," said Zordon, "especially now it's been activated."

"He's my brother," Tohmil said, "and your prince! That matters more than a little circle of metal!"

"The crown is too dangerous to allow in the hands of evil," Zordon insisted, "and we have no way to guarantee that she'd free Prince Darvir even if we were to hand it over."

"So what do you suggest? We should just sit here and wait while she cuts my brother into bits!" A part of Tohmil knew he was being unreasonable. He knew that Zordon had always been a friend to them and wouldn't abandon Darvir now. But it was hard for the reasonable part his mind to be heard over the panic and fear.

Did Darvir even know that Tohmil loved him? The two argued more often than they had a proper conversation. They fought so seriously when they sparred that an outsider might assume they were trying to kill each other. Tohmil wasn't sure he'd ever even mentioned to his brother the possibility that he might care.

And now Darvir might die, thinking his brother hated him.

"Could we trick Rita somehow?" asked Jaraino, "Could we make her think we're making an exchange so we can get close enough to free Darvir?"

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"Mystic Mother!" Tohmil yelled, "Rita!" He was standing outside the north gate of the old city walls. It was still well dark and fairly cold. Tohmil hoped people would believe that was the reason he was shaking.

He felt incredibly vulnerable, despite everything Zordon had told him about how the crown would protect him. This thing hadn't been used for so long; Tohmil wasn't convinced it would be working properly. He wished he had a mirror with him so he could check that it really was invisible. He could still feel the warm band of metal around his head and, no matter how many times the other Rangers insisted they couldn't see it, he was worried that Rita would instantly know it was there.

"Well, boy," the sorceress appeared from nowhere, "do you have something for me?"

"They're not going to give you the crown," Tohmil said, "Not even for Darvir. The queen's put it back in its hiding place; she'll never get it out again."

"Then your prince will die."

"Please," Tohmil said, knowing how weak and helpless he sounded. It wasn't exactly a hard role to act right now. "There has to be something else you will exchange for him. Please. He's my brother."

Rita was staring at him. She didn't answer right away and Tohmil began to think she'd seen through his plan. "There's something different about you," she said, and he nearly panicked and ran, "A power." She gave a cackling laugh, "They've made you a Ranger. Well then, Power Ranger, there may be something you can give me. I want the power coins."

Tohmil reached behind him and felt the morpher hidden under the back of his tunic.

"Show me my brother," he said.

"Give me the coins and I'll set your brother free."

"Why should I trust you? Set my brother free and I'll give you this right here and now." The coin belonged to him and came easily from the morpher in a way that it wouldn't for any other hands. He held it out in front of him. The surface flared green again in his hand and he saw the witch smile.

They hadn't had much of a plan. Tohmil was supposed to try and get Rita to bring Darvir out if he could. He knew that the others were watching from the Command Centre. He'd been told that he'd be teleported to safety if it looked like he was in trouble, but otherwise he should trust his judgements and go with the situation. If he offered the coin, she might set Darvir free of the spell so they could fight.

"Give me your word, Tohmil," Rita said, "Give me your solemn vow as a prince and a Ranger that you'll hand me that coin once I've set your brother free."

Zordon had told him to act as he thought best. Tohmil knew all the stories of the power coins. He'd studied all the legends when he'd dreamed of being a Ranger. Every single story agreed that the coins would never activate in the hands of someone evil. This wasn't like giving up the crown; the coin could do no damage in Rita's hands. He'd worked so hard for so many years to become a Ranger, now he was going to give it up less than a day after gaining the power.

But his brother was worth it.

"I vow," said Tohmil, "that if you set my brother free and release him from your spell, I will give you my power coin."

"Done." Rita smiled wickedly.

There was a light and then Darvir stood there. He looked as blank as before, but Rita aimed her wand at him. A blue light hovered around Darvir and then seemed to evaporate. Darvir staggered and then looked up, seeing Tohmil with a panicked expression that was certainly his real brother.

"Now, Tohmil," said Rita, "keep your vow."

He'd given his word. The coin mattered a lot, but Tohmil had always prided himself on being honourable. If he broke his word now, then he might have the coin, but he wouldn't deserve to use it. Tohmil walked towards her, holding out the coin. Darvir saw what was happening. He ran to Tohmil, one hand grabbing Tohmil's wrist to stop him offering the coin, the other on his shoulder, as though to push him away.

"Don't do this. Don't give it her."

But it was too late. Rita had stepped forward and snatched the coin from Tohmil's hand. Her laughter echoed in Tohmil's ears as the teleportation light rose around him and he found himself in the Command Centre.

"Why did you let him do that?" Darvir demanded, turning on Zordon.

"Because he gave his word," Zordon answered, "and honour is something that separates us from those like Rita." Darvir didn't have an answer for that. He just stood there silent and shocked as Alvise hurried over to hug him.

He'd seen the bodies of Ardrin and Mirria. 


	10. Chapter 10

** Chapter Ten**

"How could you just give it to her?" demanded Darvir.

"She can't use it anyway," Tohmil responded, "Only a good person can activate a power coin."

"She can control good people! What's to stop her giving the coin to some poor innocent and then putting a spell on him like she did me? Then she'd have a Ranger all of her own and we wouldn't be able to kill him because he's nothing more than a victim."

"Would you rather I'd let her kill you?"

The two were standing in the middle of the Command Centre, arguing as usual. Darvir was too busy telling Tohmil off to even thank him for saving his life. Tohmil was angry at him for that. He was angry at just about everyone, but anger was easier than grief. He wanted to yell at Mirria for not having the sense to run away. He wanted to scream at Zordon for not predicting this could happen. He wanted to punch Darvir for being too proud to even admit he'd needed help. Most of all, he wanted to destroy Rita.

He knew that when the fire of rage died, the agony of loss would hit him again, so he clung on to the anger. He would use this to fuel his fight so that he could get some justice for his friends. Only then he would let himself feel the grief. If he let himself feel it now, he wasn't sure he'd have the strength to fight.

"That's enough, you two," said Alvise. The rest of the Rangers were working with Zordon to come up with a new plan, since Tohmil still wasn't sure he knew how to use the crown. He thought he was getting the hang of turning it invisible, but that wasn't much use in a battle.

"We can't kill Rita," Zordon was saying.

"She deserves it," said Tohmil, "She's evil."

"She wasn't always. She has done a lot of good in her time as Mystic Mother. There must be some way to turn her back to who she was."

"And until we do how many more people are going to die?"

"There has to be a way to lock her up so she can't do any more damage until we can find some way to fix things," said Jaraino.

"There are substances which are impervious to magic," said Darvir, "There's a container in the museum that was supposedly used as a cell for magical prisoners." He paused. "Why are you all staring at me? I do occasionally know things."

"That's a good idea," said Zordon, "but if we don't capture or kill her monsters, there's a chance that they'll be able to free her."

"If they're created by her magic, they should vanish when she's shut off from the world, because her magic won't be able to sustain them. I think."

"It's possible, but monsters that have existed for long enough sometimes develop a strong enough form that they can continue to exist without their creator's power fuelling them. We have no way of knowing how long ago some of these creatures were first created. Cordin, fetch the container from the museum. I still think we should use it, but I'm going to look into finding a way so that only we can open it again."

Cordin nodded and teleported out. Zordon had quickly taken charge since Ardrin's fall and Tohmil was happy to let him. Besides, he might have been the Green Ranger for a few hours, but he wasn't anymore. He had absolutely no claims on leadership here. He stood there and waited for his orders. He felt ignorant and useless as he listened to Zordon and Jarainon debating possible methods of shielding or guards for the containment cell.

He went to a low chair and sat down, removing the crown from his head. He looked at the circle in his hands and willed it to disappear. After a few seconds, it faded away, solid silver becoming a grey haze becoming nothing. He could still feel the metal in his hands, but his eyes told him there was nothing there. He kept staring and willed it back into visibility.

"I think that's mine," said Darvir.

"I activated it," Tohmil answered, "I can feel its power inside me."

"But you can't do anything with it. You only got it because I wasn't here and I think it's time you give it back."

Darvir reached out to take the crown, but a wall of light appeared between the two brothers. Where Darvir touched it, sparks flew and Darvir leapt backwards, clutching his hand in pain. In that instant, the light barrier had vanished again and Tohmil stood, stepping towards his brother to check he was alright.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know that was going to happen. I didn't mean for it to happen."

"The crown was activated by Tohmil," said Zordon, "It belongs to him now and it will not allow itself to be taken by force."

"I guess this at least proves you can use it," said Darvir, sounding sulky.

Zordon turned back to one of the control panels, "Interesting."

"What is?" asked Darvir.

"I think that the Crown of Ages may give us exactly what we want."

"Do you think I could create a shield like that around the container?"

"Hmm? No, not for any length of time. But the crown could allow us to access a temporal rift."

"You mean, push Rita outside of time somehow?"

"Precisely. If we can place her in the container so her own magic is useless and then put the container inside the rift, no one else would be able to free her without a power like the crown to open up the rift again. She would be imprisoned in a moment of space-time separated from the rest of the universe. She would be unable to harm anyone and no one would be able to help or harm her until we choose otherwise."

"OK," said Alvise, "how do we find a rift?"

"I know of one. It's on a primitive world. The same world the power of the coins originated from."

"If it's primitive, how did someone there make the coins?"

"They didn't. The power coins were made on Eltar, but they draw their energy from ancient creatures that lived on this other world millions of years ago. I will locate the exact position of the rift and calibrate the teleporter to send us there. Then Tohmil will use the crown to open the rift. Once we've done that, we'll need to find Rita."

"Wouldn't it be a better idea to capture Rita first and then open the rift? We don't want to leave a hole in space-time open for too long." Tohmil didn't ask how he was supposed to even know how to open the rift, but it appeared Zordon was reading his expressions too well again.

"I don't know how long you will need to access the necessary power in the crown. We don't want Rita's followers arriving to rescue her in the meantime."

"Ok then," said Tohmil. No one else had any comments against the plan. It seemed they were going to try it.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Why isn't it working?" demanded Rita, furious. The man kneeling at her feet had his hand out, the green coin resting in his hand. And it was doing nothing. This man was human and fell into the category of good yet the coin refused to bestow its power to him.

"Maybe you should put the spell on afterwards," suggested the blue gnomish reature who was one of the least unsuccessful of her early failures at creating monsters. That said a lot about some of the other failures. She hadn't given it a name yet, but she fully expected to kill it when she'd managed to build a few more warriors that could fight like Goldar could.

"The spell shouldn't make a difference. The coin should see his inner heart and know he's good." This was the third person they'd tried and the coin did nothing.

"Perhaps the problem is he's the wrong kind of good," said Finster. This creature was one she'd keep even though he was a hopeless warrior. This monster was able to think, which was more than could be said for the blue gnome. Since Rita had created him, he'd studied all he could on both monsters and Rangers.

"Some of the coins tend to choose a particular kind of person. For example, there is no record of there ever have been a male Pink Ranger and the Blue Ranger is almost always someone of great technological skill. It's likely that the leadership coin would be even more restrictive over who it would give its power to."

"So what does that mean? What sort of person have we got to find?"

"The coin will most likely only activate in the hands of someone like the young prince. We have to find someone who is a strong warrior, who is brave to the point of rashness, with a fierce loyalty to his friends, and who is capable of inspiring others to follow in a seemingly hopeless cause."

"How are we supposed to find someone like that?"

"The Rangers always seem to manage to, so there must be enough people on the planet who are good enough."

"Ah, forget it! Let's just find another Ranger to control. Where are the rest of them now?"

"What about him, my queen?" asked Goldar, pointing at the human who still knelt with the Dragonzord coin in his hand.

"Kill him! But put the coin somewhere safe. It might be useful later." 


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

"This is it?" asked Tohmil, staring at something like a pot which just reached his knee.

"Dimensional adaptations will allow a person to fit in there," Zordon said. Tohmil still stared at the thing in disbelief. He'd not spent a lot of time imagining what a magical prison would look like, but if he had, he was fairly certain he'd never have imagined this thing. It looked like a garbage can!

He placed his hand on a central stone, feeling a slight warmth as mystical locks shifted, then he lifted the lid away. The inside looked even less impressive. He wasn't quite sure what he'd been expecting, but this wasn't a cell. This was just the inside of a pot.

"Are you really sure this will work?" Tohmil asked.

"I have absolute confidence that we can trap Rita in that thing," said Zordon.

"I have absolute confidence that he's lost it," muttered Darvir in Tohmil's ear. Darvir had stopped arguing with Tohmil about surrendering the power coin on Zordon's insistence that the loss was acceptable and that the Dragonzord coin would one day be back in the hands of good. So now Darvir was entertaining himself by pointing out to his brother the insanity of their current plan.

"The teleportation system is ready," said Alvise. Zordon went to the panel she was standing at and nodded at her results.

"Then we go," he said.

"We?" asked Darvir, "You should stay here."

"We are short of Rangers, Tohmil is not certain how to activate the rift and as your teacher it is my duty to protect you. I'm going with you."

"But it's too dangerous. You could be killed."

Zordon gave a little laugh, though Tohmil failed to see the joke. "I won't be dying for a long time to come.

He stepped up to Tohmil and Darvir and placed a hand on each of their shoulders. "I want you to know that I'm proud of you. You have both come so far in the past few months and I've no doubt you will go on to be great heroes. Have faith in yourselves and in each other."

Then he turned and went back to the control panels to make the final adjustments.

"Did that seem a bit too much like a goodbye?" asked Darvir with worry in his voice.

"Yes," replied Tohmil, watching Zordon go about his tasks as always, "which is odd seeing as he's apparently convinced he's not going to die."

"Prepare to teleport," Zordon said and the lights flared around them. Tohmil noticed that his was still green, despite the loss of the coin. Then he noticed that he would normally have materialised in his destination by this time. He told himself that they were going to another planet so it was bound to take longer, but he was struggling with panic when the light finally dissolved to reveal bleak mountains overlooking a desert.

"Not exactly the most hospitable of places," Darvir muttered, almost exactly echoing Tohmil's thoughts.

"The temporal rift should be right up here," said Zordon, pointing up the slope through some uneven rocks.

"If he knew exactly where it was, why didn't he teleport us right there?" asked Tohmil, beginning the ascent up the dusty slope, watching his footing for any treacherous stones wanting to send him skidding down the mountainside.

"Do you know how difficult it is to configure an interstellar teleportation?" asked Darvir, "With the distances involved, if you get the coordinates out by even a fraction of a degree you can miss the planet entirely. You're lucky we've just got a bit of a walk." Darvir's smug know-it-all attitude wasn't making the climb any easier, but Tohmil knew he had enough enemies right now that hitting his brother was probably a bad idea. It was still tempting though.

The climb didn't last too long. They reach a plateau that seemed as empty as the rest of the landscape. Tohmil didn't think much of this planet so far. He was wondering when they were going to see the rift when Zordon declared they'd arrived.

"There's nothing here," said Tohmil.

"The rift opens here." Again there was that strange confidence in Zordon's tone.

Tohmil walked over to wear Zordon was standing and tried to feel it. He tried to sense anything. He closed his eyes and focussed on the band of metal he could feel across his forehead. He thought about the power he could feel inside him.

Then he opened his eyes.

It was like there was a haze in the air in front of him. He reached out, his fingers tingling as he brushed through the haze. There was a weakness here. He could see it, looking through the power of the crown. He could touch it.

He wasn't quite sure how he knew what he was doing, but something in the crown knew what he wanted. In almost a trance, he stood there, feeling what he was supposed to do and just acting without thought. His hand reached into the centre of the strangeness and put pressure on the tiny crack in reality.

A line of light like a bolt of lightning shot upwards from the ground.

Tohmil jumped backwards, the trance ending abruptly. The lightning wasn't fading; it hung there in the air as a bright line of energy. Then it grew wider. Tohmil stumbled backwards a few more steps as the thing grew into a cylinder of swirling energy. A wind rose up on the top of the plateau, drawn to the energy. Tohmil could feel the pull of it, like there was a new centre of gravity somewhere in the centre of that rift.

"How long will it stay open?" Tohmil asked Zordon over the roaring of the wind.

"Long enough," Zordon answered.

Suddenly, laughter cut across the sound of the wind. Rita appeared, the gold monster and a few others beside her, the grey putties in front.

"Well, I wanted one more coin," Rita said, "but it looks like I'll be getting the whole collection. Except one. Where's your pink friend?"

Tohmil felt an irrepressible surge of anger. She was laughingly enquiring about Mirria when it was her fault she was dead. So much hatred rose up inside Tohmil that he wasn't sure he could contain it. He charged across the plateau, not caring about the yells of warning from his friends, not caring that he was rushing alone towards a group of monsters. He just wanted her to feel the pain he felt!

He kicked his way past the putties, not caring if they stayed down or not. The gold thing was more of a problem. It stepped between Tohmil and Rita, it's sword raised for battle. Tohmil didn't even have his dress sword with him. He ducked and dodged, dealing out strikes as best as he was able when he got inside the monster's reach. He wanted this thing dead almost as much as Rita, but it wasn't going to be easy.

The creature dealt a blow to Tohmil's side that sent him sprawling to the ground. Then it brought its sword round to strike the killing blow.

"Tommy!" Darvir yelled.

But the sword didn't touch him. A bright wall of energy rose around Tohmil, just as it had done when Darvir had tried to take the crown. Tohmil was shielded.

But Rita had seen it and knew the cause.

She waved her monster away to deal with the others and advanced on Tohmil herself. She raised her wand and sent bolts of energy towards Tohmil. They struck the crown's shield, but Tohmil lay in the dirt, feeling the weight of the attack pressing down on him. As long seconds passed and became minutes, he was trapped under the onslaught. The crown was straining to defend its wearing and Tohmil felt some of that struggle. He wasn't doing anything but lying there and letting the crown do its work, but still he was beginning to feel tired.

Tohmil was surrounded by so much magic, both the crown's defences and Rita's attacks, that he couldn't see what was going on. All he could hear was the crackling as two energies fought around him. He didn't know where the others were. They would be fighting the monsters, but Tohmil had know way of knowing if they were winning or losing.

Then the energy vanished. Rita's attack had ended.

Tohmil sat up and saw her nearby. Zordon had grabbed the wand. The energy that had previously been aimed at Tohmil was now flying uncontrollably around the two of them. And through them. Zordon's face was a mask of pain but he wasn't loosening his grip on the wand.

Tohmil was moments away from rushing in to help when he heard a scream. He turned towards where the others were battling the monsters and saw Darvir. His legs were inside the rift, his hands and arms scrabbling on the rocks and earth for a purchase as he was being towed inside.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

Tohmil ran towards his brother. He could feel the pull of the rift as soon as he got close. Darvir had managed to get his arms around a rock and was holding tightly, safe for now, but only his torso was free of the rift. Tohmil could as close as he safely could, feeling the tug and knowing that if he stepped too far, it would be like falling from a cliff.

"Get Rita!" Darvir said.

Tohmil didn't listen. He crouched down, clinging to a boulder with one arm and stretching the other out towards Darvir. There was still a large gap between them and he could feel the rift tugging at his arm as though it wanted to pull the limb from its socket.

"Stop Rita," Darvir said, "I'm alright for now. Help the others."

Tohmil glanced behind him, seeing the other Rangers fighting the witch's monsters and struggling. He saw Zordon gripping Rita's staff, his pain obvious as the lightning burned around him. Then Rita shook him loose, sending Zordon sprawling. He lay unmoving on the earth, the wild burst of energy no longer flowing now Rita had control again. She raised her staff to send a killing blow down on Zordon.

"No!" Tohmil screamed, running to stand between them. He didn't know what he was doing. He just knew he had to do something.

Light flared from the crown. This time, it didn't form a wall protecting him, it shot out from him to surround Rita. Tohmil didn't stop to think about how he was doing this, he just did it, wrapping her in a shield of energy that she couldn't penetrate. He felt the strain of magic inside him, wearing out his body, but he didn't let go. He glanced about to see the cell, lying unnoticed nearby. With great strain, Tohmil pushed the struggling witch towards it.

The gold creature noticed. He rushed at Tohmil, no doubt meaning to stop him, but Jaraino came to Tohmil's defence. He blocked the monster's sword, yelled at Tohmil to finish it and then worked to drive the creature off.

Tohmil pushed Rita towards the cell, mentally shoving her in her prison of energy. Nearly there. He could hear the sounds of battle all around him, but he didn't dare pay attention. All his thoughts were focussed on holding Rita in, which was getting harder by the moment. He wasn't used to such power and trying to wield it was exhausting him. He heard screams and yells, but still he pushed. He heard the witch yelling out threats or offers of powers to try and gain her freedom, but Tohmil kept working to drive her to her destination.

At last, after what felt like centuries, he had her at the container. With a final strain, he contracted the energy field around her, forcing her smaller, forcing her in.

The container's lid flew on of its own account, a glow surrounding it as it sealed itself.

Tohmil collapsed briefly, gasping for breath and shaking from the sudden release of so much effort.

"Hey!" he heard Darvir shout and he scrambled to his feet. The monsters had vanished, but Tohmil noticed that Jaraino and Alvise were both lying motionless in the dirt, their morphs vanished to reveal still and silent bodies. Cordin was powered down and on the ground but obviously alive. He clutched an arm to his chest and one of his legs had to be broken, from the angle of it. He had more urgent things to think about. He couldn't afford to wonder if his friends might be dead, not while Darvir was still in danger.

Darvir was still clinging to the rock, but clearly tiring. Tohmil got as close as he dared, lying flat against the ground and holding tight to a boulder. He stretched out his hand towards Darvir. His brother reached an arm towards him, but was too far away, his grip almost slipping as he did so. Tohmil tried shifting closer, there was maybe another hand's length between them, but it was still too far. If he moved any closer, he wouldn't be able to hold on himself, let alone pull Darvir free.

The pull of the rift was so strong that he felt like he was dangling head first over a huge drop. The planet's gravity seemed barely noticeable compared to the hole in space-time dragging him towards it. He strained, stretching out, nearly slipping as he tried to reach his brother. He was fighting with despair that he should be so close and yet so far away. When Darvir reached towards him, their finger tips were only a few inches apart, but that distance could mean the difference between life and death.

That was not an option! Darvir was not going to die when he was so close. He just needed something to extend his reach. He looked around, scanning the area for anything that might be useful but there was nothing but rocks and dirt.

Then it struck him. He reached up and pulled the crown from his head.

"What are you doing?" Darvir asked.

"Grab hold," Tohmil said, stretching the crown towards him. If this thing was so powerful, hopefully it could hold a person's weight for a few seconds.

Darvir reached up, straining towards him. His fingers wrapped around the metal.

There was a bright flash as something within the crown activated. Tohmil felt a sudden burst of energy inside him, the shock of it causing him to lose his grip.

Then he was falling, tumbling towards the rift. His hands scrabbled for a purchase in the dirt, but there was nothing.

The two brothers fell inside the rift, both still clinging to the Crown of Ages.

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Zordon lay in the dust and new that he was dying. His whole body throbbed with pain and each breath came with difficulty. The magic had torn at his physical form and now what was left was fighting for every moment of life. The best doctors in the universe wouldn't be able to prevent his demise, but it could be indefinitely postponed.

"Zordon," a face swam into focus above him. Cordin, clearly badly hurt, but alive. That was one thing at least. Zordon hadn't known what would happen to the Rangers and he'd almost been expecting for them all to fall today.

"Alvise and Jaraino are dead," Cordin said. It was a comfort that they'd fallen in the fulfilment of their duty stopping Rita, but not much of one. They had been so young. Knowing the danger of their lives was a very different thing from having to accept the ending of a friend's life. It had been so many years since a Ranger had fallen in battle that it seemed hardly possible that four should have died so close together.

"The princes got sucked into the rift," Cordin went on, "and I think it's closing." It was all happening as he'd been told it would. A great enemy had risen and been trapped, the green power coin was in the hands of evil and Tohmil and Darvir had been lost through time. He tried to comfort himself with the fact he'd see them again if he could finish what needed to be done here. But it would be a very, very long wait.

"Help me to the rift," Zordon said, with some difficulty. If even persuading his mouth to open for a few words was this hard, he wasn't sure how he could make it all the way across the plateau to the column of light that was gradually getting narrower. All he knew was that somehow he must, or he wouldn't be able to die ten thousand years from now to stop an evil greater than Rita.

Cordin was injured, one leg obviously broken and an arm suffering from a possible fracture. But he wrapped the other arm around Zordon's torso and dragged him across the ground. It was slow progress, the pair halting frequently for Cordin to rest or for one or both of them to fight down the rising pain. By the time they even got close to the rift, it was obviously smaller than it had been and the rate at which it was shrinking was getting faster. There was no great tug inward now, and so the two edged their way across the ground.

"Can you open it again?" Cordin asked, "Can you get Darvir and Tohmil out?"

The rift was now a column, about wide enough for a single person to fit inside, and it was still decreasing.

"I don't think so," Zordon said, already knowing that he couldn't, "but I can hold the rift open."

He summoned every last particle of strength he possessed. He stood, the simple task now an enormous challenge that was nearly too much for him. His legs didn't want to support him and the effort of movement was so much that there were lights sparkling around the edge of his vision and he felt himself near the point of blacking out. He stepped forward. The rift was now no more than a bright line of light and he let it pass through him.  



	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

Queen Synvia walked across the rocky ground. She'd known this day was coming for so long and she'd tried to prepare herself for it. She'd kept her distance from her sons for the past few years to make it easier to let them go. Now she wondered if she'd been wrong. Perhaps she should have drawn them closer to her to make the most of the short time she had. Now, seeing the wreckage of battle around her, when it was too late to do anything differently, she wondered if she had missed more of her sons' lives than was necessary.

"You're majesty, it's not safe for you to be here," said Cordin. He was managing to stand, just, the emergency medics having put a splint on his leg.

"The witch is trapped," Synvia said, "this place is no more dangerous than any other."

She walked across to Zordon, standing motionless over the rift. His body was frozen in time, but his mind wasn't. They would find a way to let his mind communicate with the outside universe, to let his spirit roam even when his body was trapped here, caught at the instant of his death. She knew it was possible. She'd been told it would happen.

She'd trusted that it had to be this way. She'd believed that this would work for the good of the universe, even if it meant having to sacrifice those dearest to her. When she'd made the promise, years ago, it had seemed like the right thing to do. After all, she knew her sons would grow to be strong and worthy of every particle of her pride and love. She knew they would live and be happy and, at the time, the guarantee of that was enough to convince her the price was worth it.

Now she wished she could go back and unmake that promise. She wished she could have warned them what would happen and made them change their plans. She almost wished she could have kept them from being Rangers.

But it was done. They were gone.

Synvia stood in front of what was left of the rift and reached out with her mind. She had been the owner of the crown and its power would still recognise her thoughts. If it was falling through time with her sons, she could send a piece of herself with it to deliver a message to the man she knew would find the princes.

"Take care of my sons," she thought, letting the words flow into the rift, "Evil will be looking for them. They are Darvir and Tohmil, my only children. Please, protect them. Teach them to fight."

She stood there for some time, thinking of her children. She knew she was unlikely now to ever see them again. They were gone, in a foreign world in another time.

She didn't cry now. She would cry later, in the solitude of her rooms. If she started crying now, she'd break down completely and she might never be able to stop. For now, she would hold herself together for the sake of her people and her world.

She turned and started to walk away.

Then she noticed her shadow getting darker in front of her. She looked back and saw the column of light as the rift began to open again. A dark silhouette appeared inside, small but getting larger, as though a person was approaching from a great distance. Synvia squinted into the brightness. The shadow gradually began to take form as a man, a line of silver across his forehead.

"Tommy?" she asked hopefully.

**End of Part One**

And now, a few teasers for the future parts (I make no promises that these teasers will appear exactly as written here or, in extreme cases, at all).

**Teaser for Part Two**

The trio stood in amazed silence for quite a while. It was Jason who recovered his voice first, still staring at Tommy's head.

"Did the time whole thingy eat your hair?"

**Teaser for Part Three**

"Do you have any idea what they're on about?" Hayley asked David in a whisper.

"Not a clue. Just nod and smile and hope they stop pointing their guns at us," he whispered back.

**Teaser for Part Three**

"I'm not sure I want to know that the safety of the world will depend on that guy," said Tommy.

"I thought he seemed nice," said Hayley.

"Besides," put in Jason, "is it really any worse than having the safety of the world in the hands of a chick obsessed with shopping or a guy who'd pause in the middle of a fight to do a dance routine?"

"It's very different. No one ever put Kim or Zack in charge of a team. Look, he seemed like a great guy and I'm sure he's a fine Ranger, but I can't believe it's a good decision to give command to a guy who's sole obsession is buttery toast!" 


	14. Announcement

A new science fiction thriller is coming out this month.

Child of the Hive


End file.
